Past – Present – Future?
by Bodmin
Summary: SPOILER ALERT! This story fills in the thoughts of Martin and his old tutor Newton, who is assessing him, as played out in S9E8.
1. Chapter 1 – Martin's intervention

_Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. _

_I thank Buffalo Pictures for the inspiration and for creating such interesting characters. All characters and places are owned by Buffalo Pictures._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 1 – Martin's intervention

"No."

This one syllable cut through the busy noises of the operating theatre.

One syllable Martin had struggled a long time to say.

He had the highest respect for Newton. Newton had been his tutor when he had been a student, mentor when he had been a young surgeon and a beacon of hope in this trial where disaster lurked around every corner.

Martin didn't believe in rising among his peers by letting others look bad. Martin didn't believe in betraying old acquaintances. Martin believed in doing everything for the welfare of his patients.

As a GP he had always felt responsible for the health of his patients even if it meant going the extra mile to convince stubborn patients of the necessity of the treatment he described. He felt even greater responsibility as a surgeon, when the patient in his care was unconscious and rendered unable to make decisions for themselves.

Watching his former teacher he realised how long he had now been out of the operating theatre. The steady pair of hands of this supreme surgeon had become unsteady, the astounding eye for detail had become clouded. The way this formerly brilliant doctor kept on butchering the intestines of the cholecystectomy case was unbearable.

Martin had hissed his warnings a couple of times during the procedure, but his colleague kept on making mistake after mistake. Blood was already pooling in the cavity, the pulse was rising while the blood pressure plummeted.

One more mistake like that and the woman was a goner.

They had to restore the vessels quickly or the mistakes already made would take their toll. Martin knew exactly what to do. He had to struggle with the sight and smell of blood, that was true, and he felt the anxiety of the possible loss of this patient in the pit of his stomach. He also had to admit that doing the exercises Aunt Ruth had shown him, didn't help much.

Still, he had years of experience as a vascular surgeon and he knew that the blood loss caused by the cut hepatic artery would cause the patient to bleed out very quickly.

Still, Martin had felt it was not his place to intervene. The hierarchy in the operating theatre is very strict. The leading surgeon has the say and all the other participants are only tools in his tool box, simply following orders. Power struggles over a prepped patient are potentially lethal.

Therefore, there is a clear hierarchy that is not to be questioned.

That was what Martin believed.

Up to a point, he realised watching the blood being pumped out of the hepatic artery and thereby losing its function as source of life.

Martin would have respected the hierarchy for longer, but it was obvious that his old tutor was panicking – the last thing you're allowed to do at the operating table. You have to be in control.

Wasn't that what this twit Milligan had said when Martin had contacted him a couple of years ago to conquer his haemophobia? Well, so much was true, anyway. You had to be a steady commander, one who caused the team to trust you wherever you would lead them.

Looking around in the panic-stricken faces around the table it was obvious that no one, not one single person in the room trusted Newton anymore.

Maybe that had also triggered Martin's mutiny against the captain of this operation – the anesthesiologist saying: "This is bad."

And bad it was, and watching Newton play Mikado with several forceps and clamps didn't make it any better. How many clamps do you want to push into a patient's abdomen? Shouting for more clamps was not helping. The blood flow didn't just have to be cut off. That would just lead to necrosis of the affected tissue. They had to restore the blood flow immediately.

No matter how delicate it was to question the authority of the leading surgeon, Martin had no choice.

"No."

Martin uttered this word. A word short and powerful. He uttered it as a last resort.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2 - Newton's demon

Chapter 2 – Newton's demon

"No."

Newton had never heard this word said before in the operating theatre. At least not directed against him.

This one syllable took him completely by surprise.

"What?" He asked irritated.

He first thought he hadn't heard correctly. He was a legend. He was a celebrated surgeon since his younger days. He was master in the operation theatre for decades – and he was leading this operation.

He knew that Martin was unconventional, to say the least, but Martin had always respected the order of the operating theatre. And the pecking order of the operating theatre was clear, and Newton was unquestioningly at the top of it.

But Martin _did_ question his position with one single word.

He had had high respect for Martin once. He had been his master pupil, the only one in his long teaching career he had hoped could challenge his status as king of the operating theatre. The only one who could make this game a little bit more interesting, as he was the only one not nodding star struck to everything he was saying and doing.

However, in giving in to this unspeakable weakness of his, his hideous haemophobia, without even putting up a fight, had removed any standing he had in Newton's eyes. Someone responsible for other people's lives had to live his responsibly. Giving in and running away was not an option in the operating theatre.

Newton was struggling with his own demon, but boy, he _did _fight it with everything that was in him. He'd be damned if he'd give in so easily.

He just had to find new ways to adjust the light, to turn his head. He had to be careful how to hold his head so that he could see the important things around the edges.

Having a medical degree, he knew that the vile thing about macular degeneration was the way the brain tried to complete the picture.

Horror vacui.

The brain didn't tolerate black holes. Wherever information was missing, the brain tried to fill it with the most plausible place holder. However, Newton had the advantage of knowing this danger, so he could be careful not to be fooled by his brain, and until now it had worked brilliantly.

Just today, of all days, he had slipped. He had slipped while perhaps the only person who would challenge him was present.

.

The nerve he had! A GP from the back of beyond.

Newton had first lost his patience when he had seen Martin doing some silly movements. Some relaxing exercise, he reckoned. It had been depressing to see his formerly promising student fall so low.

When Newton had been summoned to this trial, he had hoped to convince Martin to return to surgery. He had even mentioned it the night before. Now he had to witness with his own eyes that this wasn't an option, and would probably never be an option ever again.

There was no one who could carry on his legacy, and it was disheartening to see. It really was as he had said the night before, the only challenge Newton had was his own younger self.

Still, it was disheartening to see that Martin couldn't even hold his basic position as a GP. Really, for someone as gifted as young Ellingham, a position as GP was really the lowest of the low.

Still, his character was not cut out to be a GP. He had never had any sense for social niceties, which was negligible when the patient was unconscious. In direct contact with non-anaesthetised patients it was bound to be a disaster.

However, what rankled Newton the most was that he had to admit that his own younger self would have done the same as Martin had just done. His younger self would have also had intervened, as Newton himself had to admit that he was hardly in control of the situation anymore.

His bloody eyesight! Or rather the lack of it. What good does a steady hand and a sharp mind do, when your eyes are failing you?

"No. No. NO!" His former pupil tried to stop him with increasing urgency. An urgency highlighted by the excited beeping of the machines, interrupted by the occasional announcements of the anaesthetist.

By now, every one in the operating theatre knew they had reached the point of make or break. Everyone, including Newton himself. Despite his wounded ego Newton realised that he wouldn't be the one to save the patient's life. He _couldn't_ be the one anymore.

"All right. All yours. All yours. Go ahead. Go ahead."

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3 - The Midas Touch

Chapter 3

"All right. All yours. All yours. Go ahead. Go ahead."

Brilliant. Now that the patient was on the brink of dying, Newton had given the responsibility to Martin.

If only there wasn't so much blood. You could hardly see the tissue anymore. Everything was a sea of blood.

"I know this is a big day for you, but it's a routine one for us." Martin remembered his old tutor saying to calm the patient pre-op, but this was not routine. Far from it.

This was a crisis. Potentially, maybe even probably, fatal.

The anaesthetist hadn't exaggerated her statement in saying that it was bad.

It was more than bad.

It was a bloody nightmare, in every sense of the word.

Martin thought that everything would have been easier without the pool of blood, but he had no time for his haemophobia right now. He had challenged the leading surgeon and so it was only logical that he was in charge now. The life of the patient depended on him and his ability to suppress his panic attack long enough until the blood flow was restored.

"Right, give her two units of blood, make sure the proximal clamp doesn't obstruct the flow. I'm going to do an end-to-end anastomosis." He was in charge now, and he knew what he was doing.

Martin remembered what Aunt Ruth had told him. He breathed in, then he contracted his muscles before relaxing them, all the while taking concentrated breaths. In his mind he went through the next steps he needed to take, and on the blood that he had to see.

Martin's instructions came sure and confident. He focused on the artery and his ability to fix it.

With safe hands he reconnected the blood vessels after making sure that enough blood had been sucked away so that he could see what he was doing.

"Are you doing counter incisions?" Newton asked him, and Martin was reminded of his tutorial days when the tutor was inquiring during the procedure if the pupil knew what he was doing. Martin knew exactly what he was doing and Newton, too, knew that Martin knew what he was doing.

Just as Martin had known as a student what he was doing, and Newton had known that as well.

Still, Newton had the power to assess Martin's work, back then as well as now.

"So that I can make an oblique anastomosis with a large enough diameter." Martin confirmed factually while keeping on working.

"Good. Very good." Martin only half registered the approval of his elder colleague. His gaze was fixed on the severed artery. With every step he took, less blood seeped into the cavity.

"Double-arm suture." Martin informed the team.

"Remember to keep the line loose until the posterior row is complete." Newton stammered, a bit insecure. Martin looked up slowly, enervated that Newton couldn't help but to play the teacher when his inadequacy had caused him to intervene in the first place. In Martin eyes Newton had lost any right to question _him_ about his actions and had even less right to give unwanted advice, when all Martin was trying to do was limit the damage this formerly great surgeon had done.

"Yes, I know." Martin managed to say, but hardly able to cover his dismay.

"Just saying." Newton sounded almost meek.

Martin was in charge, and no one questioned his authority. Not at the moment. Everyone was watching his hands that seemed to be doing their usual miracles on their own account. Despite the years of absence from the operating theatre, just interrupted by a few emergency operations he had to perform while being officially practising as a GP, his hands hadn't forgotten a thing.

Every pair of eyes in the OR were fixed on his hands, and Martin's hands acted with instinctive certainty.

"Pulse rate's stabilised at 105. Blood pressure resolved." The anaesthetist announced finally, but while she simply stated the facts, her relief was palpable. Her announcement was so much more than simple statistics. This basic information meant that all their careers would run more smoothly than they would have done had they had been involved in a routine operation with a fatal outcome.

"Good. Good...Excellent." Even Newton sounded relieved, knowing that Martin had done what he wouldn't have been able to do – stop the patient from dying.

In his voice some of the old pride in his stellar student was restored.

Martin relaxed inwardly. He had been able to prevent the immediate danger. The patient should make it, and she would never learn a thing about the drama that had unfolded around her when she was lying there unconscious, oblivious to the panic every one in the room had felt.

Having no task to concentrate on anymore, Martin was suddenly hit by the overwhelming smell. The smell of blood. The smell of near death. A smell sickening him in the pit of the stomach.

It ambushed him while his mind was still elsewhere. It attacked him while he was unprepared. He tried to fight back, he tried to control it – it was a short struggle, a struggle he was bound to lose.

Martin realised that he was destined to lose – again – and surrendered to his inner demon.

He turned away for the patient's sake and had to humiliate himself in front of the whole surgical team.

oooOOOooo

"Oh, for God's sake..." Newton's voice was annoyed. This was unworthy of any surgeon. This was a disgrace for the medical profession. This wasn't anything he could or would tolerate, not while he was at the helm. With regained confidence he took over, now that the danger was over, to suture the wound.

They had turned it around. No matter how critical the operation had been at times, they had turned it around and made it a success.

Newton closed the incision with the precision of decades of routine. He had made so many sutures, he could do them blindfold – and that was basically what he was doing.

At least he had an excuse not to look at the wreck of his former star pupil who was lingering in the corner, well away from the patient as his throwing up had ruined the sterile environment. So all Martin could do was to keep as far away from the patient as possible. If the wound became infected due to the gastrointestinal microbiom spread by the assisting surgeon, the whole race against her bleeding out would have been in vain

.

Newton had said the night before that some – and he himself included – thought Martin had needed to "dig in and fight" when the haemophobia had rendered him unable to operate.

Glancing sideways, the only way Newton could focus on his former protégé, he caught a glimpse of the formerly acclaimed upcoming star FRCS. Newton understood there and then that his expectation had been unrealistic. This unfortunate reaction had such a huge grip on Martin, that any chance of shaking it was purely theoretical.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4 - The assessment's assessment

Chapter 4

Martin was gripping the steering wheel grimly. This hasn't gone well. He was furious – because of his haemophobia, because of the behaviour of Newton, because of the whole bothersome assessment process.

At a traffic light he closed his eyes and took some concentrated breaths, but it didn't help to calm him, as all he could see was the sea of blood in the cavity of this poor woman. The squeaking sound of a car blowing its horn behind him startled him. Grumbling under his breath Martin proceeded on his way home.

What should he tell Louisa? She had been so worried that something might go wrong, and basically everything had gone wrong.

He couldn't understand Newton. He had admired his tutor. He had been proud to be one of the chosen few to be selected to be assistant doctor to the great Newton when he had been studying. It was regarded as an excellent stepping stone into the leading positions of any great hospital at least in the UK, but that hadn't been the reason Martin had been interested in this position. All he had wanted was to learn from the best.

Martin shook his head. It was a shame about what had become of one of the best in the field. Martin replayed the operation in his mind. Just now he was able to recognise the strange behaviour with the light. The light in the operating theatre had been perfectly adjusted _before_ Newton started to fiddle with it.

Now that Martin started to assess the behaviour of Newton, he also remembered his clumsiness at dinner last night, spilling more wine than actually pouring into the glass. Martin had contributed it to alcohol consumption, but what if it hadn't been due to inebriation? What if Newton simply couldn't see what was right in front of his eyes?

"Oh no!" Martin groaned. "IDIOT!"

Martin had to admit that he himself had been an idiot, too, as his respect for his teacher had clouded his vision. With everyone else he had diagnosed it immediately, but he simply hadn't been able to consider the possibility that Newton was so reckless as to endanger his patients because he was too vain to admit that he was medically not able to do the job he used to do. Denying his loss of eyesight made them almost lose their patient.

Martin stopped in his internal rant.

Was he also denying the effect his handicap had on his ability to do his job? He didn't want to end like Newton, but was he doing the same thing?

oooOOOooo

Newton rushed out of the hospital. He needed a break. It was always difficult to almost lose a patient, but he didn't even want to think about the legal complications he would have had to face if they had failed doing a routine operation like that. A cholecystectomy, for heaven's sake! He would trust 50% of his students to be able to do this. Incision, separating the gall bladder, remove it and stitch it up again. Piece of cake.

If he had just _seen_ the stupid hepatic artery. Why was it hiding right in the middle of his visual field? There was no chance he could have seen that!

Then Ellingham interfering – the man had a nerve! Undermining his authority at the operating table while _he_ was under assessment!

Newton swallowed the whiskey he had ordered for himself in the little restaurant he had fled to.

Martin's assessment. That may help his predicament, Newton thought.

There wasn't any hope for Martin in the GMC assessment unless Newton intervened. After last night at Martin's place he couldn't understand Martin's eagerness to keep his job, just to continue that depressing life of his. Yes, his wife was beautiful and he wouldn't have minded her to keep him warm on some winter's evening, but the dingy consulting room, all and sundry invading your space with the commonest of diseases any twelve year old halfwit could diagnose and a troublesome child to keep you busy – really?

Newton had managed to keep himself _entertained_ over the years with no strings attached. He had always believed a family just kept you from achieving the highest ranks in your profession. A mind set out to save lives couldn't be bothered with the shopping list for a child's birthday.

Years ago he had thought that Martin was a chip off the old block to be the perfect surgeon – completely focussed on his work with no private life whatsoever to distract him.

How wrong he had been! After his silly breakdown in the operating theatre Martin had acted completely uncharacteristically. The sharpness and determination, which was always the trade mark of the student Ellingham, had left him. Martin withdrew and seemed to be waiting for this haemophobia to pass by. He didn't do a thing to make it better.

When his sick leave was coming to an end, he simply fled – to a job he was not cut out to do, to a place where he wouldn't fit in. Newton hadn't understood it then, he even less understood it now.

Still, Martin seemed to be eager enough to keep this life to go through this ridiculous GMC assessment. He put more effort in to keeping this job than he had ever done to keep his job at St Thomas'.

Something to work with, Newton thought satisfied when he paid the bill and left the restaurant.

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5 - Frankly speaking

Chapter 5

Due to the complications in the operating theatre Martin was running behind schedule. He glanced at his watch while picking a suit to change into. After all, he had agreed to give Morwenna away.

He still didn't quite know why he had agreed on it, but he had and he was a man of his word. At least Louisa had been pleased when he had told her. It was satisfactory to please Louisa, so he didn't want to disappoint her in being late.

He had to push the whole business about the assessment to the back of his mind though. This wasn't the time to do anything about it.

Martin was straightening his tie when the door bell rang. Gawd, not another emergency.

"Busy?" His old tutor was standing in front of his door, looking sheepish.

"I have a wedding to go to." Martin informed factually, inwardly glad to have an excuse not to discuss the elephant in the room at the moment.

.

"Oh, poor you. Honestly, you'll enjoy it all the more if we clear the air first, hm? Come on." Newton smirked. Imagine, the recluse Ellingham going to a wedding, and that it should be even more important than a talk about his professional future. Who would have thought?

While Martin was serious about this whole village life business, it might just be beneficial for Newton. He needed an Achilles heel to aim at.

.

"Well...I suppose we both agree that the OP didn't go too well."

That was putting it mildly, Martin thought grimly. If almost losing a patient was '_not going too well'_ Martin didn't want to see a routine operation completely go wrong. Maybe that would be the whole staff of the operating theatre plus the patient being poisoned by leaking gas.

Especially as this disaster could have been easily avoided by an apt self judgement.

.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Trust Martin to cut right to the chase, Newton thought. Martin wasn't fooled easily. How much his determination seemed to have faded, his mind and senses were as razor sharp as ever.

"What?"

"Is it macular degeneration?" Martin's direct question didn't really need approval, as Newton knew. Martin was really seeing right through every medical condition. Still, being confronted with it head on shook Newton to start with. After all, for a surgeon losing their eye sight was a devastating diagnosis. However, Newton was not as much concerned about the diagnosis itself, but more about people knowing about it. Yes, he did struggle to get the complete picture, but with putting the right effort in and treading carefully, he was still able to manage. They were just not to find out, or he'd be removed from the operating theatre for good, and then where would he be?

Still, keeping it a secret and trying to carry on as normal was not easy. With progressing degeneration he found it more and more difficult to hide it. It was almost liberating that he could talk about it with someone. Especially as Martin was not in a position to do anything about it, Newton thought smugly.

Now that Newton had accepted that there wasn't anything he could hide from Martin, Newton felt almost happy to finally share his thoughts. Thoughts he had found quite puzzling himself.

"Irreversible, as you know. It's quite beautiful, you know. In its own way, watching the nerve endings round the retina just slowly turn white and die one by one."

Newton had followed the change in his eye-sight since he'd become aware of his condition. It was mind-blowing to realise how you took the bodily functions for granted. Losing his sight slowly had made him aware of just how well his eyes had always served him. Now his retina cells were resigning from their service one by one, and he was the sole spectator.

It made you aware, especially as a doctor, how your body is basically your very own world. Newton had waited for anyone to notice it for months, but everyone around him seemed unaware of the crippling effect of his aging eyes.

He was teaching, he was driving his car, he had performed surgery – and he was able to do all that without having a complete picture and without anyone noticing. It was astonishing how the brain could complete the missing information by the tidbits it still received.

If anything, Newton became more in awe of the power of the mind since it had limited input.

He didn't expect Martin to understand it, though. Martin had never been one for the poetic side of life.

"You _can't_ operate as a surgeon anymore."

Newton chuckled. A harsh judgement for someone fainting at the sight of blood but carrying on as a doctor nonetheless.

"Yeah, well. I'm not the one under assessment here." Newton replied condescendingly.

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6 - The Power Game

Chapter 6

"Yeah, well. I'm not the one under assessment here."

Newton always loved the position of being the one in power. Power over people. Power over life and death, almost. Not least of all the power to persuade the opposite sex to grant a bit of attention, without losing the power to go.

Yes, power was a very pleasant aspect of his job.

Even in the old days it was obvious that Martin never understood how to use the power that came with his job. In the old days, when he was flying high and taking two steps at a time up the career ladder, he would have been able to pull some strings to his advantage. After hiding away at some sea side town in the back of beyond after throwing up into the bin of the operating theatre he had lost all this power.

Martin was equally unaware of his loss of power now as he had been aware of having the power before.

Newton, on the other hand, was a master of the power game. He enjoyed playing it. Despite being a master in this game he feared his current opponent. It was always more dangerous to play the game against someone who was oblivious to the rules. He could outmanoeuvre the grandest masters of the game, as he knew every strategy and had a sixth sense when it came to recognising the next move his opponent would make to beat him. However, amateurs in this game acted completely unpredictably. You cannot analyse a strategy when there is none. Therefore, playing the power game against Martin was like treading on a mine field without a map or a detector. He could only hope that Martin would react in a similar way to the usual people he was playing the game against.

Newton played the one card in his hand that might turn the table to his advantage.

"Oh, Martin, for God's sake...you failed _every_ test! Well, you're rude to patients and to your peers, and this stubborn refusal to play the game, it's brought your career to the brink."

Newton painted the picture in the darkest colours, but Newton knew that he didn't have to exaggerate. Martin's assessment hadn't gone smoothly, and he had left two wounded egos behind him before Newton even entered the stage.

No one, physician or not, likes to be rebuked at every corner and finally even be electrocuted. Martin's insistence that it was the assessor's owns fault ending up with her heart stopping beating on the floor of a lighthouse, on some silly rock in the middle of the ocean, as she had been stupid enough to touch non-isolated electrical wires. This hadn't helped to bring the assessor on to his side.

It also hadn't helped to diagnose a real condition in the mock surgery and then implying that the treating physician should have spotted it earlier when the treating physician was Martin's assessor. Newton had to admit that he had chuckled when he had read this bit of the assessment. It was true Martin-style. He recognised his brilliant pupil in it immediately. Trust Martin to get the full picture in a blink of an eye where others had to do test after test after test and still be stumped.

To be fair, Newton admitted, Martin couldn't have possibly known which condition he was supposed to diagnose and which weren't part of the assessment process. If he'd known, the whole exercise would have been in vain. Which in fact it had been. Still, undermining the trust the patient has in his doctor didn't help to get this assessor on Martin's side. In the end, the statement stood that Martin had blatantly refused to repeat the mock surgery.

Newton could understand Martin's point of view, but he couldn't accept Martin's behaviour. The medical community had strict rules, and the people up in the hierarchy made those rules and the ones further down on the career ladder had to follow those rules. That's how it worked, and so far it had always worked for the best of the patients. If Martin wasn't willing to accept the rules of the game, then he either had to step up and storm the career ladder as he had been supposed to do when he was still a rising star in the field of surgery, or he had to swallow his pride and play by the rules that the others were making.

There was no middle ground.

Newton observed his opponent. Martin stood ramrod straight, as he always did, and his face didn't give any emotion away. Newton had hoped to see some reaction, a flicker of the eye, a twitching of the hand, anything to indicate that Martin had realised the predicament he was in, but Martin didn't give anything away. Still, Newton hoped that Martin was sufficiently aware of the situation that he had manoeuvred himself into to take the bait Newton was throw to him next.

"This doesn't have to end here, you know."

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7 - Dodgy Deal

Chapter 7

"This doesn't have to end here, you know."

His old tutor's words stirred something in Martin.

However, the words didn't have the effect Newton had intended.

The first thing Martin realised wasn't the lifeline that Newton was offering him to save his career. The first thing Martin realised wasn't that his life in Portwenn could continue as usual if he just agreed, plain and simple.

The first thing Martin realised was that Newton was trying to blackmail him. Even worse, Newton was trying to blackmail him to turn a blind eye to Newton's inability to perform in his job anymore and let him continue nonetheless, possibly accepting fatal outcomes for future patients.

The first thing Martin realised was that Martin would feel responsible himself for any patient lost on the operating table if Newton blundered on.

The one thing that had always had the highest priority for Martin in his job was the welfare of his patients. There was only one rule Martin had followed strictly throughout his whole career, and that was to give your best for the health of the patients in your care, no matter which other rules you had to break to get there, no matter whose toes you trampled on along the way.

The one decisive factor was whether you had done everything in your power to get the best possible outcome for your patient.

If a patient died despite this at least Martin could honestly say that he had done everything in his power and so be it.

He did accept that it wasn't always possible to save life and limb of every patient. It was a defeat if he couldn't, and research was working on pushing back the line of defeat more and more, but this line would always exist and doctors, no matter in which field, had to accept that they would reach this point, hopefully later rather than sooner.

However, knowingly adding a risk to a patient's life should be unthinkable to any doctor, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences.

At least it was to Martin.

"What, you'll ignore my faults if I ignore yours?" He confronted his old tutor head on, without the sugar coating of this preposterous suggestion.

"We both still have a great deal to offer." Newton told him and tilted his head encouragingly.

Martin was shocked.

All the respect he had had for Newton – and he always had the highest respect for him – crumbled down to plain disgust.

What was this man thinking? His career was not more important than a patient's life! His career wasn't worth blackmailing a colleague!

Martin didn't answer his former tutor, his elderly colleague, his assessor. Martin excused himself that he had a wedding to go to.

oooOOOooo

Martin watched Newton walking down the hill.

Martin stood still, looking over the harbour. On the Platt, he could see people buzzing around preparing for the wedding. The wedding he should hurry to go to, as Morwenna had more or less tricked him into giving her away.

However, Morwenna had proved to be surprisingly adequate in her job over time. Since her grandfather had died, she hadn't had any family to speak of. Martin didn't have the highest opinion of her parents after the short encounter the previous year.

The more parent-child relations he had observed, the more he thought that he had a reasonably good upbringing. At least his parent had the decency not to enforce their presence on him more than absolutely necessary, but left him in a place where qualified people could take care of his education.

Compared to Louisa's parents, or Al's, or Morwenna's or even the ruptured spleen case, who had shadowed him for work experience... No, he definitely would prefer the boarding school any time.

On the other hand, there was James Henry...

Martin was glad that Louisa had chosen to retrain as a child counsellor, as she was at home more often that way and James Henry had a loving mother to take care of him. Martin noticed with pride that he had been right from the beginning, Louisa did make a lovely mother. She was caring and understanding. Martin stopped in his thought, actually, Louisa had proven to be more understanding than ever, especially when it came to Martin's quirks. She wasn't leaving him in a huff anymore, baffled at what he had done now to deserve it. She had become much clearer in her communication, and he was happy to do everything in his power to make her happy – as long as he understood what was expected from him.

Now, it seemed, the GMC board thought they could blackmail him. Blackmail him to overlook their mistakes, to be quiet when something was wrong and to do his job by the book instead of doing what was best for the patient.

Martin had agreed to do whatever it takes to keep his job. To keep it for Louisa's sake.

Still, there were limits.

He had agreed to take part in this ridiculous assessment procedure and he had kept himself from sending all of the assessors packing, telling them in no uncertain terms what he thought of them. His opinion wasn't very high of any of them, for sure. Heavy-heartedly he had to include Newton in his negative verdict.

"_...you failed every test! Well, you're rude to patients and to your peers, and this stubborn refusal to play the game, it's brought your career to the brink."_ Newton's words came to his mind.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8 - Stock taking

Chapter 8

"_...you failed every test! Well, you're rude to patients and to your peers, and this stubborn refusal to play the game, it's brought your career to the brink."_

He couldn't see how he had failed any of the assessments.

The first one, where the stuck-up doctor was shadowing wherever he went, the patient had even defended him, much to his surprise. It wasn't his fault that she had insisted on going to the lighthouse with him. It was even less his fault that she had been stupid enough to touch the wires with the faulty insulation. He was only responsible for re-animating her after her heart had stopped beating. If that was a fault, then he didn't know what doctors are for.

He had also shown up for the phlebotomy refresher. Yes, he had been late, but his patient would have died if he hadn't attended to him immediately. It wasn't his fault that the situation had escalated. If the patient had followed his orders, there would have been no crisis and he would have turned up in time for the course. However, he was hardly in the position to shave off the patient's beard and administer the ointment against the patient's wish. That would have been used against him also, just as the death of the patient would hardly have been in his favour. So it was a lose-lose-lose situation, but not in the least his fault.

Just as it hadn't been his fault that Louisa needed him as this other woman...Janet? Juliet?...was having an anaphylactic shock. If she had just kept herself from eating that cake. Cakes in general are bad for your health, but they hardly have such an immediate effect unless you eat banana cake when allergic to latex. If she'd been better informed about her own condition, the emergency could have been avoided, and he would have finished the bloody refresher. No, it wasn't his fault that he hadn't completed that part of the assessment.

The mock surgery was a farce beyond belief! Why did Mrs. Tishell believe he needed help? Did she really think he wasn't up to the job? He could have hardly stopped her, besides, she snatched the papers from the assessor, not from him. So it was basically _his_ fault she got the information in the first place. Martin thought he had saved the situation reasonably well in rattling off the symptoms he had expected to see. Martin was also not responsible for the choice of test patients – one, who had a genuine condition the assessor as his GP had failed to take seriously and one, who was too batty to remember her alleged condition and didn't even realise that it was a mock surgery.

In fact, he had even diagnosed _more_ conditions correctly than he was expected to. After all, the assessor insisted on being treated by him after the assessment, so he obviously didn't have such a bad impression of Martin's diagnostic skills after all. Martin could see no fault in his behaviour either.

Last but not least, in assisting with the surgery he had actually _saved_ the patient's life. Yes, he had also thrown up, but _after_ the patient's condition was stable. He had solved the crisis that had been brought on by the stubborn refusal of his assessor to admit that he was medically no longer able to perform surgery. Maybe they should ask the patient whether she thought the lack of vision of the leading surgeon was more forgivable than the assisting surgeon throwing up _after_ he had restored her blood flow.

Martin came to the conclusion he had already verbalised the previous day when having dinner with Newton. _Those tests are a waste of time. Bureaucracy, box ticking._

If that's what it took to be a doctor nowadays, he probably was really not qualified for the job. If he had to risk the life and limb of patients in his care to please the bureaucrats, then he couldn't be responsible for patients anymore.

_To be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9 - Stocktaking

Chapter 9

Martin didn't think twice when he strode back into the surgery. If the only way he had to keep his job was turning a blind eye to the inadequacies of his peers, then he wasn't interested.

What did Newton say: "_...this stubborn refusal to play the game, it's brought your career to the brink"_. The problem was that Martin wasn't playing any games, not even when nothing was at stake, but even less so when someone's life was at stake. That was a price he wasn't prepared to pay.

Martin switched on the computer, impatiently waiting for it to boot while looking nervously at his watch. Morwenna would be at the altar soon, and he had to be at her side.

Even better, it forced him to be short and concise, and not starting to rant on why he was removing himself from the assessment process.

Martin opened his email account and started writing:

"_To the GMC board,_

_Hereby I remove myself from the GMC assessment, as I have no interest in jumping over any hideous bureaucratic hurdles anymore._

_Regards,_

_Dr. M. Ellingham"_

He pushed the send-button and shut down his laptop.

Then he ran down the hill as he was already late for a really important appointment.

.

When he reached the Platt, he realised that Morwenna was about to walk towards the stand-in altar on her own. Just like Louisa had to do, as there had been no one to take her hand.

Martin squeezed through the rows to reach Morwenna in time. When Morwenna saw him, she broke into a huge smile.

The moment he reached her, she tried to interlink arms with him. Martin's natural instinct kicked in. As long as he could remember, he had tried to shy away from any physical contact. Before Louisa, there had only been a few physical contacts that hadn't been painful. So it was a sort of Pavlovian response to avoid any form of physical contact, just as you withdraw your hand from a hot surface before you get burned.

Martin's first reaction was bewilderment at how his employee was trying to touch him, until he remembered that this was part of the job. He had agreed to give her away and walk her down the aisle, and he realised that meant that he also agreed to that. As soon as this realisation sat in, he performed according to the task.

He strode purposefully with his employee on his arm and led her towards Al. He could see in Al's eyes that he was really in love with Morwenna, and by now he could also relate to the feeling. The feeling of belonging. The feeling of being part of a family. The feeling that there was more than one unit to consider.

He remembered the night before when Newton had asked about his family, and he also remembered the pride he had felt telling him about his wife and son. He had never felt so proud of anything before. He knew that most of his peers thought his real achievements lay in the time of his surgical career. He himself saw his real achievements in the family he had managed to build.

Maybe because it meant more to him than his career had ever done, even though he hadn't realised it at the time. Maybe because it had taken him more effort to succeed.

Studying medicine had never been a challenge for him. He had passed all exams with flying colours and little effort.

Working his way to having a family had been much harder, but for the first time he hoped he could succeed.

_To be continued..._


	10. Chapter 10 - Cut Ties

_Dear readers,_  
_in these uncertain times, stay healthy and act responsibly. _  
_Wish you all the best._

* * *

Chapter 10

Martin was glad when he finally joined Louisa on the hay bales, which were arranged to accommodate the wedding guests.

Even last year he would have tried to find an excuse not to go to such a shindig, especially when it meant sitting on hay bales. By now, he felt that it was a small price to pay to make Louisa happy.

On the other hand, Louisa had acknowledged by now that Martin only partook in such things to please her so she limited the socialising to short periods of time and allowed Martin to withdraw after a brief period. Martin also valued that Louisa had learned not to expect that he'd like these outings. She was happy and grateful that he attended them to please her.

One look into Louisa's eyes beaming at him rewarded him for the effort he had taken.

When Martin had expressed his suspicion that he felt that Newton was disappointed in him the previous evening, Louisa had woefully asked Martin whether he thought that he actually had disappointed Newton. Martin had been astonished about the certainty with which he could truthfully say that it wasn't any of Newton's business how he led his life.

Martin realised that he had emancipated himself over the past year from the expectations that others had of him.

Last year he had broken with his parents, well, at least with his mother as his father had died before he was able to tell him to leave him in peace. At least he had had the opportunity to throw his mother out of his home and send her packing, never to see her again.

He had found the strength to stand up to her and tell her frankly that she hadn't cared for him a bit. He had to thank Louisa for this realisation, as seeing her with James had made him realise that he hadn't wished for anything impossible when he was little, but that his wish to gain the attention and approval of his parents had been a natural urge that had been meanly denied him.

Only his experience as a father himself had helped him to see clearly that his mother's behaviour had been selfish and shallow, and only that had given him the strengths to cut the ties to his mother. He never wondered how she was doing nowadays because he simply couldn't care less.

Now, he had removed himself from the ties of the medical profession, a job he was destined to do by his ancestry. He had enjoyed being a doctor, but nevertheless it had been family tradition that made him chose this profession. He set himself free from the expectations others had for him. It seemed just because he had always been supreme in his job, everyone expected him to subordinate everything to his job. Everyone expected him to be a surgeon. Everyone expected him to work all hours for the sake of his patients.

No one respected his right to have a private life.

Now he had cut all ties that had bound him to his former life.

All that was before him now were the things and people he had _chosen_, what was important to _him_.

He felt almost liberated. His new life could start now without any burdens.

He had no idea how he would earn his money, but he was confident that his savings would last until he had found a new profession for him. One, where he could rely on his intelligence and didn't have to compromise his integrity. One James Henry could be proud of.

He just had to find a way to tell Louisa the news about the assessment process without worrying her.

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11 - I Do

Chapter 11

As to be expected, the wedding ceremony was a farce, with Penhale not only trying to act as best man but also presiding over the wedding. Nevertheless, the love Al and Morwenna had for each other ensured some dignity for the ceremony.

The ceremony also gave Martin some time to gather his thoughts and find a way to postpone the inevitable.

"_How did it go?"_ Aunt Ruth had asked him urgently as soon as he joined them, but he had brushed the question away to talk about it later. The ceremony was about to begin and Mrs T shushed him, so he breathed in deeply and turned towards the wedding.

It didn't take long for Martin to realise that he couldn't postpone an honest talk for long. Louisa kept stealing glances and he could see that she was eager to talk.

Just when Al and Morwenna exchanged their rings, Louisa couldn't wait any longer.

"_Martin, I have some news._" Louisa leaned towards Martin and she told him eagerly.

"_So do I._"

Again, Mrs T shushed them.

Why was this woman always around? And why was she always intervening? He could understand Clive to some degree – being dead was definitely better than being married to that woman. Still, Martin needed to focus on Louisa, as he had to tell her.

"_We really do need to talk..."_ Louisa urged him again.

"_I know_." He dreaded the moment he had to crush her hopes that the last assessment had gone well. He remembered her this morning, coming over to him, giving him a peck on the cheek, her arm encircling him. It had felt good. Good, that someone cared. Good, that – for the first time in his life – he had someone by his side to support him. Still, the outcome wasn't any better because of it, but that was hardly to be expected. A peck on the cheek could neither change the medical system nor his phobia. What it had changed, however, was the way he felt about it.

When his haemophobia had hit him for the first time, he had been angry. He had felt unworthy. He had thought he'd be a disappointment to everyone, a laughing stock. He had felt that he had let himself and everyone around him down.

This time, it was a nuisance, but it didn't affect him as existentially as it had done before. This time, his job was at stake, but not who he essentially was. He realised, there was a life beyond being a doctor, and that life was not subject to the assessment process.

This part of his life was in Louisa's hand and he had learned that she judged him less harshly. Looking into her eyes right now, he couldn't believe his luck to call this beautiful woman his wife. It seemed to him, that today there was even an extra spark in her eyes.

_To be continued..._


	12. Chapter 12 - Expecting

Chapter 12

"_I'm pregnant_." Louisa leaned forward and whispered urgently into Martin's direction, her face smiling at him.

For a moment Martin couldn't grasp the meaning. '_Pregnant'_. What did that mean?

Of course he knew about the impregnation of the ovum by the sperm and the embedding of the blastocyst into the uterus.

But where did it come from?

Yes, they had talked about it before and they had agreed to try for another child. They'd even been to the fertility clinic, but that didn't mean that Martin was prepared for the reality of pregnancy.

After the first questions had flooded Martin's brain, there was just one thing that remained after the storm in his head had subsided– a strange sense of joy. Yes, maybe this was even what happiness felt like, but then an old fear took over, a fear that everything he wished for and actually really seemed to be within his reach would be pulled away from him.

"_Are you sure?"_ He needed Louisa's assurance that her assumption was based on facts, not just a tasteless joke that would leave him devastated. Based on facts he had always relied upon all his life.

"_Yes, I'm very sure."_ While Al and Morwenna were just being joined together in holy – or, thanks to Joe's influence, maybe not so holy– matrimony in the background, Martin couldn't think of anything but how lovely Louisa looked and how great it would be to have a child with her. This time he would do it right, not the mess he'd made of it before.

Martin stopped in his thoughts.

Suddenly the whole mess came crushing down on him. Why now? For the first time he needed to support her, with everything he had. But what did he have right now? What did he have to offer?

Louisa had always insisted, even in their most difficult times, that he was a '_very good doctor'_. But he no longer was.

Even worse, he had lost his livelihood. How was he supposed to support his family? How would he earn the money his family deserved? He had functioned professionally all his life. His job was the one thing he could always rely on. The job had been the basis he had built his life on. The job had defined who he was.

Now this certainty had been taken away from him, just at the moment he needed certainty most.

Martin knew he had to come clean about his resignation as soon as possible, no matter how hard it was, no matter how much he feared Louisa's reaction.

Still, he hesitated. He loved her so much and he was afraid he could lose her, and with her the chance to be part of this pregnancy. To be at her side from start to finish. His last chance to do things right.

He didn't want to lose that. In his whole life he had never wanted anything more than being with Louisa, especially right now when she was carrying his baby.

Nevertheless, her pregnancy just meant that she had every right to know that he had let her down. He had to confess and be at her mercy, hoping that she would forgive him for failing.

Louisa had studied his face, and after the more pronounced lines around his eyes had given his joy away to start with, she could see that his face was clouded now, and she was worried as she didn't know what was bothering him.

"_What is it?"_ She asked him, and he noticed that her voice was void of any accusation, but that her question only showed pure concern.

He knew he had to tell her, no matter the consequences. He knew that this moment would define their relationship forever. He knew that this was the moment their marriage would have to be tested if it was strong enough to survive a storm.

Martin gulped and hesitated. He felt the fear in the pit of his stomach, but he also was still bathing in the joy of the news that he would be a father again. He haltingly started to bear the bad news.

_To be continued..._


	13. Chapter 13 - To be or not to be

Chapter 13

"_I emailed the GMC and opted out of the assessment process by resigning from general practice. They were gonna strike me off anyway for non compliance, and I'm not prepared to jump through any more stupid hoops_."

Now he had let the cat out of the bag. Cats were nasty creatures in his opinion, and he was sure he was about to be scratched badly.

He watched Louisa carefully, watched her every expression, watched the shock on her face. She had always believed in him. She had fought for him during the first assessment some years back and supported him with this one. Louisa looked at him incredulously as if she hadn't understood, and in reality she really hadn't fully grasped what he had been saying.

"_Wha...?"_ Louisa stammered, still not trusting her ears. Not _wanting_ to trust her ears.

"_I'm not a doctor anymore_." Martin simply stated, afraid of the reaction, but glad that it was out in the open now. He waited for Louisa's outburst, for her accusations, for her rejection as he had always been rejected when he hadn't performed as was expected, and everyone had always expected him to function flawlessly.

"_Oh_." Louisa's statement was not helping him to gauge her reaction. He was glad that she wasn't crying or shouting or leaving in a huff. He thought maybe a couple of months earlier she would have already left him in his befuddled state, so he hoped they might be OK.

"_Is that bad timing?"_ He knew the answer. It was a horrible timing. Still, even he noticed that his voice sounded a bit relieved and not as concerned as the situation would justify.

"_Really bad_." Louisa agreed calmly. More than anything, he thought, she looked stunned. She didn't look angry. She didn't look disappointed. Just stunned, and maybe a bit worried.

Martin had waited for the storm, but Louisa had taken in the news quietly. Martin had watched Louisa's reaction very carefully. For the first time he had messed up, messed up big time, without being punished for it. Without being rejected. Without being hurt.

More than anything else he saw concern in her eyes. Concern for him.

Martin was standing there in the middle of the celebrating crowd. He hardly registered the cheers the village gave the newlywed couple. He hardly registered the people around him at all.

He just saw Louisa, he just felt wonderful about the prospect of having another child with her, and he felt afloat at what the future might bring.

In this whirlwind of uncertainties this day had brought he knew just one thing for certain. 100%, without any doubt, and it was this unshakable certainty he needed to express. He needed to say what he knew would be true for as long as he lived, no matter what. He knew it had been true from the moment Louisa had confronted him after his job interview at the Castle Hotel, and all the years, all the ups and downs in between had just deepened this certainty.

At a moment when he had lost his identity, his profession, his income; at a moment when he didn't know in the slightest what he would do the next day, as his days had always been driven by his work as a GP, and without his practise he wouldn't know what would give structure to his day. At this moment of being in limbo, he knew he had to tell his wife the one thing he was absolutely certain of, a truth as old and as solid as the earth itself.

"_I love you_."

For the first time these words felt right even when said out loud in public. For the first time Martin wasn't ashamed that anyone could hear, for the first time he wasn't shy in saying them out loud outside their own home, because for the first time he was certain that he wouldn't be rejected, wouldn't be ridiculed. He knew for a fact that the recipient of these words was more than worthy of his deeply felt affection. He also knew that nothing in this world could change the truth of these words.

Besides, he needed Louisa to know that no matter how much he had messed up, she was still the centre of his universe and that he would do anything in his power that the sun would keep on shining on her.

He had seen the worry in her eyes, and these words were the only remedy he could offer right now, they were the only security he could offer, the only gift he could bring to his pregnant wife.

As this was the one unchangeable truth.

Martin watched his wife carefully, as he knew that the next moment would define their future together. His whole future hung on this thread of hope.

The way Louisa reacted now would be crucial for their years to come, for the home James and the new baby would live in.

Still, Martin was not worried. After the events of the day, maybe he should be, but he was not. He even felt almost elated.

The decisive moment came. Louisa's smile. He had always loved her smile. Her warm affectionate smile. Understanding. Comforting.

Next she leaned forward and their lips met, met in a deep and soothing kiss.

It was then, that Martin knew that the spell of the past was broken. Martin knew that right now, the future was a far away land yet to be discovered.

Most of all, he knew that the present was the place to live in, and that right now, he couldn't be at a better place.

_The End_

_\- . - . - . - . -_

_I thank all kind readers, especially those who take their time to comment. I sincerely hope I could provide a little escape from a world that offers a bit less entertainment and joy as usual, but more worries. _

_My very special thanks goes, as always, to my proof reader, fanficfan71. All my errors are my own._

_My last but not least thanks goes to Buffalo_ _Pictures for creating such wonderful characters. As always, it had been fun to play with them for some time. __I hope, I'll return them to you undamaged._

_Most of all, please take care of yourselves! Act responsibly! Stay safe and protect others._

_Good times will come again, eventually._


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